I'm not a Witcher anymore.

Chapter 145 What are you doing? Are you free? Can I come and kill some bandits?

"Teleportation complete"

"Dungeon World: Kingdom Come: Deliverance"

"Hint: You have automatically learned most of the world's languages."

Main questline now available.

Main Quest 1: Arrival in Skarlitz

"Main Quest Two: Unlocked after completing Main Quest One"

"Note: You can only return to the main world after completing all main quests."

Please plan your actions carefully and ensure your safety.

The pages continued to turn, revealing new content.

"In this world, you can unlock the following milestones."

"Civil War Expert: Kills over fifty Lord Alliance soldiers"

"Master of Siege: Capturing an Enemy Fortress"

"Kumank: Kill 300 Kumans"

"Savior: Rescuing a city from peril, regardless of the cause of the peril." "Lord Slayer: Uprooting the Lord Alliance, leaving no one alive."

"King of Bohemia: Only Duke Gerlitz is worthy to be the master of Bohemia, not Wenceslaus or Sigismund. You are not usurping the throne, but simply reclaiming what rightfully belongs to your family."

Zieg's gaze swept across the words on the pages of the book.

Skaritz, Bohemia—these words were enough for him to figure out where he was, but they couldn't explain his current predicament.

Why was he being chased by robbers?

Who is this attendant beside him?

The Book of Adventures did not provide further answers.

Zig then snapped out of his daze and turned to look at the young man who was still standing by the window.

"What happened?"

The young man was taken aback, turned his head to look at Zieg, and a hint of worry flashed in his eyes.

"Your Highness, have you forgotten?" His voice was still very low, but there was a hint of urgency in his tone.

"We are going to Skarlitz to see Lord Radzi, a royalist, to discuss how to save Bohemia."

"Yesterday evening, when you passed by that country inn, you noticed someone was secretly watching you, and you immediately left overnight."

"We thought we could shake them off, but those people were more troublesome than we expected, and they tracked us all the way to this village."

""

He paused, his grip on the crossbow tightening involuntarily.

"But Your Highness, please rest assured. Those bandits will not be able to touch a hair on your head unless they step over my dead body."

Zieg nodded and didn't ask any more questions.

He then closed his eyes and listened to the sounds outside.

There were about fifty people.

They were in groups of three to five, scattered throughout the village, searching house to house.

Several exits from the village were guarded, effectively blocking all escape routes.

Judging from the weight of their footsteps, the rhythm of their breathing, and their chaotic shouts, these people did not appear to have received formal military training.

At best, they are just a mob emboldened by their numbers.

"Stay indoors and don't show your face."

After speaking to Hightar, Sieg left the house where he was hiding.

Your Highness

Haitar's expression changed, and he instinctively tried to stop him, but it was too late.

The robbers outside quickly spotted him.

"Only one?"

The bandit leader paused for a moment, then burst into a piercing, maniacal laugh.

"He's got a really good-looking face. If we catch him, we can definitely get a lot of ransom!"

A bandit rushed forward with a sinister grin, slashing his longsword down at Zieg.

Haitar instinctively raised his crossbow.

But before he could pull the trigger, Zieg had already moved.

In that instant, Haitar didn't even see how the sword was drawn.

He only saw the fastest-rushing bandit suddenly freeze, his longsword slipping from his hand and falling to the ground. Immediately afterward, the second, third, and fourth bandits fell one after another.

The screams, the sound of weapons hitting the ground, and the muffled thuds of blood splattering on the ground almost blended together.

The robbers, who had been laughing wildly, finally realized something was wrong, and retreated in terror, cursing and running away.

But no one can escape.

After a few breaths, only the bandit leader was still standing.

The maniacal laughter on his face had vanished, replaced by a chilling fear.

puff.

The bandit leader's throat was slit open by the sword, and he could only make a sound.

He stared in horror at the corpses of his men scattered on the ground, then at the young man wiping his longsword with a linen cloth, still unable to believe what had just happened.

Darkness swallowed his consciousness.

Through the crack in the window, Haitar stood frozen in place.

He remained in the posture of holding the crossbow, but the fingers on the trigger were taut and white.

He had seen knights kill and witnessed bloodshed on the battlefield, but what was happening before his eyes had gone beyond the realm of "martial arts".

More than fifty bandits fell down almost within a few breaths.

The young servant took a deep breath, forcing himself to recover from the near-speechless shock. Then, he stepped out of the house and strode towards the two horses hidden behind it.

The two horses were clearly disturbed by the smell of blood, snorting uneasily and digging shallow tracks in the mud with their hooves.

Hightar whispered a few words of comfort, then led them around the corpses scattered on the ground and came to Sieg's side.

"Your Highness, the road ahead leads to Skalitz. If you continue on your way in this armor, you will inevitably encounter villagers, guards, or Lord Raddy's henchmen. You might even attract unnecessary questioning before you even meet Lord Raddy."

Zieg glanced down at the Wolf School armor he was wearing.

The leather, rivets, and arm guards were still stained with undried blood. Such attire was suitable for the wilderness, for battle, and for hunting, but not for entering the halls of nobles.

"you're right."

Upon hearing this, Haitar immediately stepped forward, untied the shoulder straps and leather buckles on his chest, and carefully removed the outer leather armor.

After doing all that, he took out a clean cloth and wiped the bloodstains off Zieg's hands and clothes.

He then took out a neatly folded dark blue hunting outfit and a silver-trimmed leather belt from the package.

The hunting outfit was embroidered with the coat of arms of the Duchy of Görlitz on the chest.

"This is the you they should see."

"Not a strange swordsman who has emerged from a pool of blood, but Gerlitz's master, the Duke who has come to discuss the fate of Bohemia with the royalists."

Zieg changed into his hunting attire and fastened his belt again.

As Haitar watched this scene, the shock in his eyes had not completely faded, but he had already regained the composure that a servant should have.

He led over a warhorse: "Your Highness, please mount your horse."

For the next day and night, the two traveled eastward along a country road.

Early spring in Bohemia still carries a hint of chill.

Vast fields of farmland stretched out on both sides of the road, some already being plowed, the dark brown soil glistening damp in the sunlight.

luster;

Some areas are still barren and yellow, with last year's wheat stubble lying crookedly in the ground, waiting to be turned into the soil by the plow.

Occasionally, you can see a few farmers working in the fields, their hunched figures appearing particularly small against the vast open plains.

Whenever someone sees them from afar, they immediately stop what they are doing and bow respectfully.

This wasn't because they recognized Zieg's identity, but because of their attire.

Zieg wore a well-tailored dark blue tweed hunting suit with a collar and cuffs trimmed with dark gold, and the coat of arms of the Duchy of Görlitz on his chest was clearly visible in the sunlight.

He wore a silver-inlaid leather belt around his waist, and although the Languriza sword was sheathed, its exquisite scabbard itself was a testament to his power.

Although Haitar was dressed rather simply, the crossbow and the short sword at his waist were enough to show that he was no ordinary person.

In this era, clothing is a symbol of status.

An ordinary farmer might never be able to afford a decent woolen coat in his entire life, let alone wear a sword and ride a horse.

Those who can dress like this and ride horses on the road are either nobles or nobles' attendants; in short, they are people you can't afford to offend.

For these farmers who toil on the land, bowing their heads in respect is an instinct ingrained in their very bones.